Fake
by FaeQueenInu
Summary: Out of the three identities she has had over the years, she would have to admit that Darcy was her favorite existence. She was coping. Adjusting. She was beginning to feel at ease, her life more normal than she thought capable. Unfortunately for her, her luck never ran that good for that long. Because four years after Darcy was born, she met him again. (WinterShock)
1. Chapter 1

They first met when she was sixteen.

Two years of delving into the world of cyberhacking, and the wild child, foster brat Beatriz Jones was already infamous within the world of hacking. She was a trickster, a prankster, who pulled off feats such as hacking all of the Times Square video boards to post random internet videos to more elaborate things such as leaking government emails from corrupt politicians to the public. Mostly just emails about married senators doing the nasty with their assistant, that sort of thing.

Then she hacked the wrong email.

She did not know who Hydra was, but considering the fact that the email was about the senator wanting his competition to meet a not so timely end, she assumed they were bad guys. This led to her immediately pulling out of that senator's desktops and cutting off any access to him.

Unfortunately, she realized rather quickly that she had been found out. Feeling as if she was being watched, being followed, SUVs with tinted out windows following her at not so discreet distances. She decided to cut her loses and get the hell out of dodge.

One quick bathroom dye job and a packing of basic necessities, and Beatriz found herself climbing out the window of her foster parents' Chicago flat late at night, heading down the fire escape and out into the streets below. She was sad to leave her computer set up behind, having worked several part time jobs to buy all the pieces to her mainframe, but she knew she could not take it all: she resolved herself to wipe the set up memory and move on.

It wasn't until she stepped out of the alley that she saw him. Up in a window across the street, he stared directly at her, sending chills down her spine. She could barely make out his features in the low light of the room he occupied: all she could see was shaggy, black hair and a dark mask covering the lower half of his face.

She furrowed her brows, wondering why he was staring at her, up until she saw the glint in his hands of what distinctly looked like a sniper rifle. Eyes growing wide in fear, she turned tail and ran down the street into the night, leaving her old life in the dust.

She had never liked the name Beatriz anyway.

* * *

When they met again, it was several years after she had become Jane Freemont.

Jane was much more careful than the wildchild, Beatriz. Hacking was no longer just a game, but a serious way of life. Traveling from town to town had eventually landed her in Atlanta, where she took on a job at a computer repair store. It paid good, and her apartment was within walking distance. That combination plus her access to several piles of spare computer parts at the store, and she quickly had a setup that was far superior to her old one.

Though she was more cautious, no longer hacking just for the thrill of it, she still found herself taking certain risks. Such as taking up her old hacking userhandle. She did not know why she would make such a stupid decision, but she did it anyway. Using any other name just felt wrong to her.

Jane should have known better than to be this stupid.

A few months after her userhandle started popping up, he found her. She had not even noticed him lurking in the shadows of the alley, not until his hand struck out to grab her. His hand pressed firmly to her mouth as he pulled her towards him. Though every part of her body screamed to fight back, to lash out, she remained stiff and compliant.

He used his free hand to shove her harshly against the brick wall of the building, his other hand moving from her mouth to pull out a knife. The words tumbled out before she could stop them, sounding shockingly calm with just a hint of hysterics on the end. "So, I guess you decided to skip the sniper rifle this time, huh?"

The surprise in his eyes caught her off guard. He stared at her as if he did not understand her words. She tilted her head slowly, her fake blond locks falling into her face. "You… you don't remember me?" An indignant rage built up, though this was certainly _not_ the time nor the place for it. "I warranted you stalking me and attempting to kill me, _twice _now, but you don't even know who I am?!"

His grip on her shoulder slackened, and he backed off, staring her down silently. And that silence. The stoney silence as he looked at her as if she were a dangerous animal, or some mystery that he had no idea how to solve. If he didn't kill her, the silence would.

When she noticed the resurgence of shock in his eyes, she realized that she said that last part out loud.

"Uhh…" Not knowing how to react, she held out her hand to him. "I'm Jane. Jane Freemont." He did not speak, nor did he take her extended hand. "I was Beatriz Jones last time?..." Still nothing. "...are you mute because if so, I'm going to feel like a bitch for pestering you this much-"

The knife embedded in the wall just inches from her head, causing her to let out a startled yelp. His hand was still wrapped around the hilt of the knife, and that was when she finally noticed the fact that his arm extending past her face was made entirely of metal.

He stared her down, seeming to think over his next move. Then, he quietly stated, "I can't remember you."

Usually, she would be upset over someone forgetting her, but the words were so hauntingly sad that it made her heart ache. She knew she should be terrified, but part of her vaguely wondered if this over rationalization of the situation was her way of coping with stress. "That's fine. I'm not much to remember anyway."

He stared longer, then he pushed back away from her. "I was ordered to kill Jane Freemont."

She gulped. "Do… do you want to kill me?"

He slowly shook his head. "I have no choice."

Swallowing, she firmly replied, "Then consider me dead. Jane Freemont is now dead. Just like Beatriz Jones. I can become someone else."

"That's not how this works."

"And who said that it can't be?" He did not move, did not flinch as she stared him down. "I will drop off the grid. No more hacking, no more using my userhandle. I walk away as someone new, and you walk away without any blood on your hands, but a death for whoever ordered you." Taking a deep breath, she added, "It's your choice."

She was crazy. There was no way this would work. Her brain was just spouting off any excuse she could find. Closing her eyes, she just let him decide. She was no fool: he held the power in this situation. He would be the one to decide her fate…

After a few minutes of waiting, she finally allowed her eyes to peak open… only to see an empty alleyway.

And in that moment, Jane Freemont died.

* * *

Two weeks later, she dyed her hair back to its original brunette shade, and Darcy Lewis was born.

It was another month before Darcy found herself in Arizona, where she enrolled in college as a Political Science major.

Another year before she went stir crazy and got an internship in the middle of the desert to avoid the temptation to pick up her old hacking habits.

Throw in her new astrophysicist best friend, befriending several Norse Gods, and eventually, being hired on to work for Tony Stark, she would have to admit that Darcy was her favorite existence. Sometimes she still was startled when she hears Jane's name being called, and once in a coffee shop, an order was called out for a Beatriz, nearly causing her to scream. But she was coping. Adjusting. She was beginning to feel at ease, her life more normal than she thought capable.

Unfortunately for her, her luck never ran that good for that long.

Because four years after Darcy was born, she met _him_ again.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I know I normally write TaserTricks, but this idea popped into my head, and I just couldn't resist...


	2. Chapter 2

It was a simple favor. Simple on paper, at least. Stop into SHIELD and get an update on what the hell is happening.

Unfortunately for her, the details were the real issue.

"What do you mean he is dead?!"

The older woman at the desk scowled up at the shrieking brunette, shooting the young woman a glare that likely would have made grown men cry. "I mean just that."

Thankfully, the young woman was not easily cowed under a simple glare. Slamming her hands down on the desk, she demanded, "Why was Stark Industries not informed of this?"

Scoffing, the woman turned her attention back to her computer screen. "We have more important things to deal with."

"What could be more important than telling _Iron Man_ that Director Fury, king of spies, just kicked the bucket in a coordinated attack?!"

Seeming at her wits end, the older woman snapped back, "Because that no good traitor Steve Rodgers was involved, that's why!"

Blinking owlishly, the young woman let out a dry laugh. "Is this some kind of joke?! You first claim that Fury is dead, and now you want to try and pin that on America's boy scout! Do I _look_ like an idiot to you, you old harpy!"

The harpy part slipped out on accident, and unfortunately, it killed any chance at making any further progress. "It's time you leave, Miss Lewis, before I have you detained."

"Fine," she snipped in irritation. "But this isn't the end of this conversation."

The older woman gave her a mocking smirk, and Darcy narrowed her eyes. Turning around, she purposefully moved to stride out of the room and then out towards the elevator. Unfortunately, she was painfully reminded of the 'Out of Order' signs on the main elevator. Slumping over, she trudged off to the staircase for the parking garage. Jumping into the back seat of her car, she felt the engine roar to life as the system recognized her bio signatures. A familiar voice chimed in from the radio.

"Where would you like to go, Miss Lewis?"

"Anywhere but here, Jarvis," she muttered back to the AI as she yanked off her heels, reaching under the seat for her more comfortable converses. She was stuck in the short black dress for now, but the way it clung to her curves made her look hot, so she guessed she could deal. "Set autopilot to drive around the outskirts of the city: I'm going to be busy on my laptop for a bit, and I would rather not settle in one place till I finish up some checking."

"May I ask what kind of checking you are doing?"

Pulling her hair tie from her wrist, she set about twisting her hair into a loose bun before grabbing her laptop out of her bag. "I attached transponder to the back of that old crone's computer set up when she wasn't paying attention." Typing up a few specific keys, she added, "It's not the best start, but it should be better than trying to hack into SHIELD servers remotely. Can you run my encryption programs and try to weasel your way into the files for me?"

"Certainly. Anything in particular you wish to search for?"

"I would like access to files pertaining to Fury's death and how Cap could be involved." Tapping a few keys to approve the encryptions powering on her laptop for Jarvis, she added, "We need to nip this problem in the butt before Tony catches wind and tries to stick his nose in. He needs to focus on his recovery, but Pepper can only distract him for so long before he tries to pull something stupidly heroic."

"Duly noted."

Sighing to herself, she set about typing furiously on her laptop. "At least I know why the elevator was broken…"

* * *

Officially, she was Stark's assistant. Basically, she took over from Pepper, seeing as how running a multi-billion dollar company did not leave her with adequate time to watch her accident prone, self destructive boyfriend.

It wasn't what she had initially signed on for: she was supposed to just be Jane's intern turned assistant and was paid through Jane's new department at Stark Industries post Battle of New York. Not to say that she did not know how to do the job properly. She had wracked up a lot of experience dealing with neurotic scientists while working for Jane, and when Jane ended up contracted with Stark, Darcy somehow found herself taking care of both Jane and Tony.

Pepper quickly caught on, and by the end of the day, new employment paperwork had been filed, attached with a very generous pay increase.

It had been a month into the job that Stark found out about her 'little secret,' aka that Darcy knew how to hack. And by 'knew how to hack', she meant that she remotely hacked SHIELD files while drunk to try and find out how Fury lost his eye. Unfortunately, the answer wasn't in any SHIELD server, but Stark was immensely impressed nonetheless.

He immediately insisted that she sign on with his computer tech division to work with him personally… or at least he insisted as soon as they were both sober. When she started vehemently denying her capabilities and going to such extremes as to lock herself in storage closets to avoid talking to him about it, he had to break down the issue with her.

Unfortunately for him, even when he dragged Jane into the mix, they could not get much out of Darcy other than her refusal to officially become a hacker again. Lots of pleading, groveling, and tantrums later, Stark found a compromise.

He offered her a position as a 'coding consultant' working directly under him. She could write strings of code and develop programs for hacking as well as building better tech security, but no hacking would be required to be done directly by her.

And that's when the new employment contract was dropped on her desk. From an outer perspective, it appeared similar to her old contract. The fine print helped to alleviate some of her fears, but she still was uneasy knowing that in reality, she was now Stark Industries' unofficial hacker.

She swore she would never pick it up again, but she reasoned that as long as she didn't use her old handle, she should be safe… she hoped.

Once the contract was finalized, her free time became split between force feeding the stubborn scientists and making sure they actually slept from time to time to now working on writing code to help improve Jarvis' hacking abilities. Darcy likened Jarvis to a bat: effective for busting open a window to break into a house, but useless in being subtle. Her job was to basically teach him how to pick locks: meaning he can enter quietly and leave undetected.

Her being in DC was partially planned: Fury needed to talk to Stark immediately about something 'big'. The problem was he requested the meeting during Tony's open heart surgery to remove the shards from his body. So yeah… Iron Man wasn't exactly available. And given Pepper's hesitancy to leave Tony's side post surgery… _surprise,_ Fury gets Darcy!

Except now, he was dead.

And Cap was on the run.

And Darcy wanted to puke from stress.

Unfortunately for her, she didn't have time for that last one. Jarvis spoke up, stating, "Miss Lewis, an alert has just went out across SHIELD: a SHIELD flash drive has been activated at the nearby mall. They believe it to be Captain Rodgers and Ms. Romanoff. Agents are on route to the location."

"Shit!" Slapping the laptop shut, she scrambled over the console, wiggling her butt between the seats as she fell into the driver's seat. "Get to that mall!"

"Changing route now. ETA is five minutes."

Muttering a few swears, she managed to flip around properly in the seat. Grabbing her bag from the back seat, she rummaged around before letting out a triumphant "Aha!" Pulling the communicator out, she began to flip through the contacts. "And while you're at it, think you can experiment with our blind spot protocol?"

"Running the coding system now."

* * *

"We need to commandeer a car."

Glancing from the corner of his eye, Steve quipped, "Let me guess, that means steal one?"

"Now I know that this probably hurts your boy scout sensibilities," she remarked playfully as she steered him towards the parking garage. "But we don't have many options."

He rolled his eyes at the boy scout comment. "My sensibilities will be just fine. I've hotwired plenty of vehicles back during the war-" He paused, feeling a vibration in his pocket. "Hold on a sec."

As he pulled out the Avengers communicator, Natasha gave him a look that screamed murder. "You brought that with you? With SHIELD tracking us?"

"I have the wireless turned off, it should only connect with other Avenger communicators within a five mile radius," he replied smoothly, tapping on the screen to highlight the message. Eyes widening, he quips, "Uh, who is Darcy?"

Snatching the device, Natasha bluntly replies, "She's Thor's friend, his girlfriend's intern: Stark hired her about six months ago."

"...how do you know this- Nevermind." Leaning in as they continued walking, he asked, "What is she saying?"

"She's in the parking garage." Turning her face to smirk at Steve, she quipped, "Looks like your boy scout image gets to stay in tact, she has a car."

"I'm on SHIELD's most wanted list, my image isn't exactly my top concern right now."

* * *

As they stepped out into the garage, Steve began to worry about how they were going to discreetly find this 'Darcy' person.

"Yo, Capsicle! Nat!"

...now he had other concerns.

Staring slack jawed at the tiny and curvy brunette in tight black business dress and converses, waving wildly at them several rows down, he prepared to bolt. The crazy girl was giving away their location as she jumped up and down, but Nat simply smirked and strode forward. "Come on, Cap. Let's not leave our ride waiting."

"_Nat_," he whispered angrily, jogging up to her side. "Is this really the best idea-"

"I know you haven't met Darcy before, but trust me," she replied smoothly, still smiling. "Despite her quirks, she knows what she is doing."

"You mean like giving away our location-"

"Dude, chill," the tiny brunette called out, having clearly heard Steve's not so quiet whispering in the echoes of the empty parking garage. She had a hand planted on her hip, the other pushing her glasses further up her nose. "I've already had Jarvis hack and disable the cameras, and his scans say this level is empty of any people. For now at least. So…" she turned and began striding back to an expensive looking silver Audi, calling out over her shoulder to them. "Hurry up and get your ass in the car before they think to check this place."

Steve grimaced, a bit embarrassed at the scolding he just recieved, but Nat just linked arms with him and dragged him along, grinning a cheshire grin. "She's feisty, isn't she?"

"...now I understand why she works for Stark."

"While yes, the sass helped, that's not why I got the job," Darcy remarked absently as she tapped the car's window in a pattern, pulling up a digital touch screen projection on the glass.

Nat tilted her head curiously, watching her. "I tried asking Tony about that, and he always deflected."

"I'm not surprised he avoided telling you. He was probably afraid that you would throw me in jail. Or hire me, given SHIELD's track record." Hitting a confirmation button, she stepped back as the plates of the car began shifting along with the color digitally changing from silver to black, the license plate sliding up and another sliding down in its place. "You know, given the fact that I hacked SHIELD while drunk." Shrugging in a way that was way too casual for that admission, she quipped, "Tequila causes me to make stupid decisions."

Steve's jaw hung open, and Nat lifted a brow, clearly impressed. "So, Darcy. Are you single? And do you like buff blondes?"

Sputtering, Cap hissed, "_Nat_!"

"Well, I was assuming that helping a wanted fugitive would at least earn me a drink or two," she quipped coyly, eyeing the nervous Captain with a flirtatious smile. "Or are you going to leave a girl hanging, soldier boy?"

"No ma'am," Steve replied quietly, a blush crossing his face while Nat grinned like a cat who caught the canary.

"Oh this is gonna be fun!" Popping open the driver's door, she simply ordered, "Hop in, my fugitives! Let's go fuck up SHIELD's day and hopefully not get shot in the process."

As Darcy sat and shut the door, Natasha quietly commented, "She's hot..."

"Nat, only you would set me up on a date while on the run."

"Like I said before, I'm multitasking."


	3. Chapter 3

"So..." Her voice drawled on the word, pointedly glancing between what she mentally dubbed her 'strays' as she tried to find some semblance of a conversation starter. "I always assumed I would run into you two eventually, given my connections with Thor and Tony, but I can honestly say that this wasn't anywhere near the scenario I envisioned."

Steve chuckled at her words, legs sprawled in the passenger seat. "I don't think any of us expected this kind of scenario to happen."

From the back seat, Natasha made a sound of disagreement, scrolling a tablet through the files Darcy and Jarvis had managed to scrounge up. "Regimes fall everyday, Captain." With a smirk and a look from the corner of her eyes, she added, "And you should have stopped being surprised after the alien invasion."

"I guess she has a point," Darcy mused. "I mean, so far realizing I tased a God has been the highlight of awesome heroics on my part."

Steve gave her a confused look, till a light bulb went off in his head. "You're Thor's lightning sister, with the pocket lightning."

She practically beamed. "And here I thought he wouldn't be able to get past waxing poetic about Jane to mention me! I definitely owe him some brownies."

Staring at the tiny brunette, Rogers had no clue what to make of their current situation. Everything just seemed to happen so fast, and now here he was, on the run as a fugitive in a shapeshifting, talking car with a former Russian KGB assassin in the backseat and bubbly hacker in the driver's seat who could give any 40s pin up model a run for their money with the curves she sported.

"I shall mark a reminder for you about the brownies, Miss Lewis."

Did he mention the talking car part?

"Thanks, Jarvis," she warmly replied to the dashboard before returning her attention back to the laptop, typing furiously away.

Did he also mention that nobody was physically _driving_ the car?

He noted how she had slowly begun turning in her seat, her feet tucking up under her as she continued to type lines of code. How that position was comfortable, he could hardly fathom a guess, and as he became aware of the edges of her dress riding up her hips, he turned his gaze away, blushing fiercely.

"But back to the important stuff," she chirped. "Either of you gonna explain why we have to go to _New Jersey_ of all places?"

Steve shared a look with Nat in the rearview mirror, his jaw twitching as he tried to think up the best way to explain. "Fury entrusted me with a jumpdrive shortly before he was shot."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, the drive that alerted SHIELD that you were at the mall?"

He began to nod, and she scowled before reaching forward to sharply jab him in the shoulder. It didn't hurt, but he still looked affronted by the attempt. "What the hell?! Why didn't you contact Stark? We could have checked it without alerting SHIELD that we had it!"

"We didn't have time," Natasha replied simply, never looking up from the tablet.

"Bullshit." Slamming the laptop shut, she ignored the assassin's narrowed glare and snapped, "You were just trying to cover for Fury. What did he do?"

Sharing a look with Rogers, Natasha bluntly replied, "He had me steal information off of a SHIELD ship a few days back. The information I grabbed is on that drive."

"The drive that you plugged into an _Apple_."

"Is that an issue?" Steve asked hesitantly.

The look she gave him _screamed_ 'duh'. "Apples have good security for basic problems, but for a government corporation? Apples are highly standardized: you just need one basic set of code and you can infiltrate any Apple device." Running her hands through her hair, she angrily muttered, "They probably already have a copy of the drive from the time it was connected..."

"The drive had high level encryptions on it," Natasha chimed in. "Without the actual drive in their possession, it should buy us enough time to reach our destination."

Her anger fading into a sulk, she muttered, "What in the hell kind of destination is _New Jersey_?"

"Camp Lehigh." At her curious head tilt, he elaborated. "Its where I trained to become a soldier."

"...Oh." Snuggling back down into the seat, she quietly mused, "I guess it's an okay place then."

He gave her a good natured smile, to which she gave a wry grin back, her gaze drifting out the front window. Silently assessing her, he tried to wrap his head around her. Though charming she may be, he was worried about the potential harm she may be faced with… given the enormity of the situation, he was not sure if they would be able to adequately protect her.

And as he suddenly remembered her close ties to both Stark and Thor, he grimaced at the possible consequences should this go awry.

Clearing his throat, he ventured to ask, "So… Darcy." Her face swiveled back to his, quirking a brow at him. "Exactly what type of field experience do you have?"

Shrugging, she replied, "Loki's robot thing nearly blew me up in New Mexico. Does that count?"

"...what else?"

Scratching the back of her head, she gave a half hearted laugh. "Uh… does lab work count? Cause Tony nearly blew me up a few times with his experiments."

He stared blankly at her. "What about combat practice?"

"...none?..."

Natasha leaned forward from the back seat as Steve continued to question her. "Are you telling me that Stark sent you here with absolutely _zero_ combat training?"

"Uh…" She had the decency to look sheepish. "Not exactly…" At their expectant gazes, she glumly replied, "He… doesn't even know I'm here."

"_What-_"

"I don't know how much you two know about the past couple of weeks for Tony," she interjected before the stressed looking Steve could continue. "But he went through that whole 'mental breakdown and near death experience' thing… again. Results have been a ton of mandated therapy and he may have been in open heart surgery when Fury contacted him."

Steve just stared at her while Natasha shook her head, muttering something in Russian.

Darcy warily eyed the assassin and continued. "Yeah well, I'm sort of the one who works closest to Tony besides Pepper. And Pepper wanted to stay with Tony. So… _surprise_, you guys got Darcy!..."

While Romanoff continued to mutter angrily in Russian, Rogers steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Thor is going to kill me."

"Hey, it's not like you knew any better!" Darcy argued. "Besides, its my choice. If I happen to get offed in the field-" She did not notice the look of sheer panic that crossed Steve's face at the thought. "-he will just go on and on about how I 'died a warrior's death' and that I would be 'praised in Valhalla' or something like that." Pausing for a moment, she then added, "I would be concerned about Jane's reaction though."

Running his hands over his face, Steve declared, "You can't come with us."

"...excuse me, _what_?!" Her face flushed red as she snapped, "I saved your asses back there-"

"We could have gotten a ride on our own," Natasha interjected. "Hotwiring a car isn't exactly hard."

Darcy looked like she wanted to say more, but Steve laid a hand on her shoulder. "I understand you want to help, but this isn't a game-"

"Did I ever _say_ this was a game?" she snapped, shaking his hand off her shoulder. "I know what's at stake, and no offense, but you guys aren't exactly in the position to turn away help-"

"You're a liability," came the blunt reply from the red head in the backseat. "We are going to have our hands full watching our own backs, we can't afford to split our focus and watch yours."

"I'm not asking to go running into the middle of a fire fight with you two," Darcy snipped. "But you can't afford to ditch me. You're going up against _SHIELD_, and all the cool spy moves and super soldier muscles won't help if you can't beat SHIELD at its own game, which is keeping and hoarding secrets. Please, tell me where you can find a hacker with a backdoor into SHIELD at this short of notice, hmm?"

Another string of muttering came from Natasha, only for Darcy to snap, "Stark doesn't need to schedule his life around SHIELD's beck and call, and trust me, I had the attitude before I met him."

Realizing he missed something, Roger's gaze flipped between the two women. Romanoff was tense, ready to spring at a moment's notice, and Darcy seemed completely unaware of the possible danger.

Slowly, Natasha stated, "You speak Russian."

"...Yeah?..." Darcy seemed confused at the statement. "Is that not normal?"

"It's not in your file."

"I picked it up in foster care." Though he may miss it from time to time, Rogers could easily she the shift of her eyes as she spoke. She was certainly not a skilled liar.

"Is that so?" Natasha replied simply, her frame relaxing. He furrowed his brow in confusion- surely she saw the lie, right? At his concerned look, Natasha told him, "I doubt she's a spy: her lying skills are atrocious."

"Hey!" Darcy snapped with a pout. Her arms crossed under her chest as she slumped back into her seat. "I'm not _that_ bad…"

"Why were you lying in the first place?" he asked warily.

Fidgeting in her seat, her eyes dropped to her lap. "You wouldn't believe me otherwise."

"In case you missed the part where I was frozen in ice for 70 years and fought against an alien army," Steve quipped in a half exasperated tone. "Just humor me for a minute."

With a heavy sigh, she declared, "I honestly have no idea where I learned Russian. Or the German. Or the French and Spanish and even the coding for the computers."

"...what?"

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me!" she cried out in an aggravated tone.

Natasha interjected. "Can you elaborate?"

"I don't know, I just… woke up one day with no memories of my life." Her words were quiet and distant as she stared vacantly out the car window. "They think I was thirteen or so at the time. I was questioned intensely by like a dozen government officials before they finally just gave up and dumped me in the foster system."

"You can't… remember anything?" Steve asked gently, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse at her face. She stiffly shook her head, and he could see how pained she was over the fact.

"Does Tony know?"

Barking out a laugh, she quipped, "If he does, he doesn't mention it. But I doubt he's run a background check on me or anything."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha bluntly remarked, "Look, I don't think you're a threat. At least not at this moment. So we can table this issue for later."

Brows furrowed, Steve replied, "This seems like cause for concern-"

"I think the fact that Fury was killed by the Winter Soldier and SHIELD is hunting us down would be a more pressing concern."

Tilting her head in confusion, Darcy chimed in, "Who is the Winter Soldier?"

Nat and Steve exchanged a glance before looking back towards her. "He is an assassin, one that's more of a ghost story than anything," Natasha began, her tone clipped and edged. "Very few ever survive an encounter with him: he literally shot through me to hit his target once."

"Oh. Lovely." Her tone contradicted her words. Darcy was clearly disturbed to hear about someone who had managed to not only kill Nick Fury but shoot the Black Widow. "Any descriptors so I know when to run in the other direction."

Steve grimaced. "Yeah. He's got a metal arm for starters-"

"No."

Startled by the fear laced tone, Steve noticed the sheer panic on Darcy's face. Reaching out to gently grab her shoulder, he softly asked, "Darcy, what's wrong?"

She began to shake her head. "No, just… no, not him. I…" Her face grew pale, and Steve could feel the violent tremors wracking through her body. "We need to pull over. I… Oh god, not him."

"Darcy-"

"Jarvis, _pull over NOW_."

The car swerved onto the edge of the road and slammed to a stop. Darcy was out like a shot and stumbling around the front of the car, violent sobs shaking her shoulders as one hand balanced on the hood and the other covered her mouth. Steve and Natasha hopped out as well, with Steve running up to her side only for her to push past him to the grass of the roadside.

Dropping to her knees, she began to puke between sobs, and Steve finally realized she was having a severe panic attack. Carefully kneeling beside her, he gently gathered her hair into one hand, his other rubbing her back as she struggled to cope. "Shhh, Darcy its okay. Everything is okay."

Natasha appeared before her, squatting down in front of the still hysterical girl. Handing Darcy some napkins from the car, she bluntly asked, "You know him, don't you?"

With a shaky hand, Darcy took the napkins while struggling to nod. Wiping off her mouth, she mumbled, "God, this is embarrassing."

"Considering that you survived a meeting with him, your reaction is justified." Steve's eyes jumped up to Natasha's face, seeing the sincere look in the older woman's eyes. Nat was never one for showing emotion or weakness, but she was willingly letting it drop for Darcy.

"The first time I met him, I didn't realize how serious it was," she commented quietly, not seeing how the other two reacted when she said 'the first time'. "I probably should have been more concerned about the fact that a sniper was across the road from my apartment, but I was sixteen and stupid. I just ran, changed my name, never looked back.

"I shouldn't have survived the second time. My mouth just ran and talked, and honestly, I could barely remember what I said. All I remember is him embedding his knife in the wall by my head, and his eyes…" Looking up to Steve, she said, "His eyes were so sad…"

Shaking her head, she continued. "I made a deal. I would drop back off the grid, no more hacking from my userhandle: I would let that part of my life die, if he let me run. And he _agreed_. He let me go. But I've been looking over my shoulder ever since, just waiting to see him again, because… because I just knew..."

The sobs took back over, and they understood. She did not have to finish explaining for them to know.

If she met him again, there was no chance of her walking away alive.

* * *

**Comments:**

_Goldenfightergirl_: Whoops, sorry! I have a friend with it spelled Rodgers, so its a habit. I will try to keep it fixed from now on. Thanks for the heads up!

_ebarnea25:_ Thank you!

_Guest:_ Thanks! And yep, finally started on that, sorry. I need to catch up on the other been a hectic few weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive turned unsurprisingly silent after her outburst.

Sitting quietly in the backseat, she stared out the window, ignoring the feeling of Steve's eyes staring at her. He had questions, rightfully so, but he couldn't seem to voice them. Probably concerned she would burst into another hysterical fit.

But she was too tired for that. She hadn't had an episode like that in ages, having thoroughly bottled up her wayward emotions under layers of sass and snark. The information had simply caught her off guard, and she... _snapped_.

Seeming to grow tired of the silence, Natasha spoke up. "Alright, Steve, I've got a question for you which you don't have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it, though, you're kind of answering it-"

"What?" he barked out with a tired sigh, his shoulders tensing up.

The smirk on her face just _screamed_ trouble. "Was that your first kiss since 1945?"

_That_ definitely got Darcy's attention. "Kiss?" Her head whipped back and forth between the two. "What kiss? Did you- _ohmygod_, he's blushing!"

Running his hands across his face, he angrily muttered, "Natasha…"

"It's an honest question," the Widow replied in an all too fakely innocent way.

Waving her hands in the air, she quipped, "Umm, hello! Overworked assistant here who needs details! The most I've gotten in the past year is Jane moping over Thor and Stark being… well, _Stark_." Making a snapping motion, she demanded, "Spill!"

"We needed to avoid detection from SHIELD agents," Natasha replied smoothly. "Public affection makes people uncomfortable."

"Wait, so you two kissed _each other_?!"

Groaning, Steve leveled a glare at the red head. "Did you have to bring it up?"

Grinning mischievously, Natasha asked, "Why? Are you afraid of scaring away your first potential date in seventy years?"

"_Natasha-_"

"Honestly, I wish I was there to see it," Darcy chimed in with a shrug. "I'm not gay, but a girl would be stupid to not say that they have a huge lady crush on the Black Widow. You're lucky, dude."

Steve stared slack jawed while Natasha silently preened. "I like her, Steve. Let's keep her."

"She's not a pet-"

"I can be a good sidekick!" Darcy offered cheerily. "I'm mostly good at hacking, but I'm great at baking, too. You'll get a stack of freshmade treats whenever you want."

Steve gave her an incredulous look while Natasha asked, "Can you make macaroons?"

"I can make them in my _sleep_."

"We're keeping her."

"You might have to fight Stark and Thor for sidekick privileges, though." Tapping her chin in thought, she mused, "Jane too. She's not exactly deadly, but she can be pretty scrappy."

Waving her hand, she replied, "We can share with Jane, and I can handle Thor and Stark."

Shrugging, Darcy quipped, "Well, just keep the Winter Soldier from offing me, and you two have a new sidekick."

The small smile that had been growing on his face during their banter quickly fell. Hesitantly, he said, "You don't have to come with us."

Turning with a confused gaze, Darcy lifted a brow. "Didn't we already have this conversation, Cap?"

He leveled her with a steady gaze, though she could see the worry behind his eyes. "I know, but that was before you knew about… about _him_." Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "No one is going to judge you for not wanting to get involved after what you've been through."

"You guys might not judge me, but I would." Propping her feet up on the seat and tucking her knees under her chin, she asked, "If this had been before... before I had taken this identity, I might have run in the opposite direction." With a dry laugh, she added, "I might not have even picked you up at all…"

Natasha spoke up quietly, eyeing her in the rearview mirror. "But this you is different."

Meeting Natasha's gaze, she nearly cried at the understanding in the woman's eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, she is. And she is too damn stubborn to run away."

"Sounds like a certain someone I know," Natasha replied quietly, giving Steve a pointed look.

Sighing heavily, Steve gave in. "You are still going to follow our lead," Steve added in, a stern look on his face. "You can help with any tech related issues, but if there is the _slightest_ chance of you being injured, you will follow our lead and orders. Understood?"

"Psssh, no problem." Finally relaxing more, she pressed her back against the door and stretched out her feet into his lap. He looked amused at her casual demeanor, and she couldn't help the coy smile that teased her lips. "I can follow orders, Captain."

* * *

"I change my mind. I don't want to follow orders anymore."

"If I may, Miss Lewis," Jarvis chimed in. "I believe their intentions were simply to protect you in case there were any traps."

Leaning back in her seat with a tired groan, she replied, "I know, I know… doesn't mean I have to like being left behind in the car very much."

Her fingers rapidly tapped on the steering wheel as she glared at the gate with much force as she could muster. She was a hacker. A damn good one. One who could certainly help with that flash drive. But this trip left her feeling more like a glorified chauffer than anything else.

And the sad part was that _the damn car drove itself_.

Lightly hitting her head against the steering wheel, Jarvis stated, "I would not suggest hitting your head in such a manner: your body is still recovering from your panic attack earlier."

"I'm fine…" she muttered, resting her forehead on the wheel. "I ate a granola bar. I'm 100% a-okay now."

"My scans say otherwise-"

"You're scans can bite me."

"I believe this is what you once called your, and I quote, 'hangry, stressed out bitchfest.'"

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Okay yeah, I deserved that." Sitting upright again, she quietly replied, "I just want to help them…"

"Then help them by listening to them," Jarvis suggested smoothly. "Let them lead in areas of their expertise, then lead them in areas of your expertise."

Snorting, Darcy quipped, "I still have no idea how _Tony_ of all people made someone with as good at advice as you."

"Thank you for the compliment, Miss Lewis." Before either of them could speak again, an alarm began to blare throughout the car. Speaking in an automated and tense tone, Jarvis announced, "Warning: incoming missile. Executing safety protocols."

Sounds of metal shifting and the car engine revving filled the air, and before she could protest, safety restraints wrapped around her waist and shoulders. The car shot forward, turning on a dime and speeding in the opposite direction of the base.

"What the _fuck_, Jarvis!" she screeched, struggling against the restraints. "Turn back! We can't leave them-"

"Miss Romanoff and Mr. Rogers are both too far underground to reach in time," came the clipped response. "Any attempts to reach them would be futile."

Tears began to pour down her cheeks. "We can't… We can't just…"

"I… am sorry, Miss Lewis…"

Briefly, she saw the tell tale streak of a missile engine in the rearview mirror, only to let out a broken sob as the base was blown to pieces.

* * *

The morning had so far been normal.

He woke up at his usual time, took a run out by the monument, even managed to keep a higher pace then usual. Striding into his kitchen, he pulled out the jug of Orange juice, moving to take a drink until a knock interrupts him.

Brows furrowed, Sam tried to remember if he had invited anyone over, and he was _certain_ that he hadn't. Cautiously making his way to the door, he peeked out, only for his eyes to widen in surprise.

Opening the door quickly, he was greeted by the sight of Steve, Natasha, and another smaller woman, all of them looking worse for wear. Both Steve and Natasha were in regular civilian clothes san his shield and the pistol on Nat's hip, and were both covered in patches of soot and grime. The other woman was covered as well, but she wore a fitted black dress that hugged her curves, paired with old converses, glasses, and what was likely Steve's jacket.

Unlike Steve and Nat though, the girl had tear tracks on her cheeks through the soot.

Worried about the trio, Sam hesitantly said, "Hey, man…"

Steve looked apologetic. "I'm really sorry about this. We need a place to lay low."

Without any introduction or formalities, Natasha just bluntly said, "Everyone we know is trying to kill us."

Letting the gravity of the situation sink in, he determinedly told them, "Not everyone."

With that, he ushered them inside before looking around, making sure no one was watching as he shut the door behind him. Natasha and Steve both gave him appreciative glances as they hustled in, and the smaller woman hesitated next to him before launching at him, hugging him tightly.

He reflexively hugged her back, one hand moving to rub her head. "Hey, its going to be okay. My name's Sam."

She pulled her face back slightly, looking up at him. "I'm Darcy…" Then, with an absolutely desperate look, she asked, "For the love of God, please tell me you have spare pants I can borrow."

He should have known better than to assume today would be normal.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know I've been away for a while, and I am soooooo sorry. I've been moving and dealing with work and personal stuff, so I'm stupidly behind. I hope to catch up more this week!

Also, I will respond to this chapter's comments in the next chapter, I swear. I just want to get this chapter up tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Fingers running absently through her hair, she worked out the knots as best she could. Sam didn't have a brush that could work for her unruly curls, and she was beginning to resign herself to the fact that she would likely be stuck with a rat's nest on her head for the remainder of the trip.

Sam came striding into the kitchen where she sat on the countertop, her legs swinging lightly. His eyes perused her, not in a way of checking her out, but in a way to assure she was okay. When his gaze settled on the sweatpants she currently wore, he quipped, "Those might be a bit too big…"

She let out a very unladylike snort and stretched out a leg towards him, showing the good half a foot of fabric hanging off her foot. "Ya' think?"

"It's not my fault you're a midget, Lewis," he remarked in bantering tone, grinning at the smaller woman.

"Oh, those are fighting words, Wilson!"

"If we are fighting, I want on Darcy's team." Natasha crooned as she strode into the kitchen, her hair still damp and clad in another pair of sweats borrowed from Wilson, though these were actually an acceptable length on the taller woman.

Darcy slowly lifted her hand as if to ask permission to speak. "You do realize I don't know how to fight, right?"

Nat shrugged. "You're scrappy and can throw good insults. Besides, Cap is too righteous to hit a lady who can't fight back, so you should be safe." Grinning wickedly, she added, "You just make sure to bake the victory treats."

"…you _really_ want those macaroons."

Without answering, Natasha simply smiled at the younger girl before turning her attention back to the doorway as Steve strode into the room. He had a half-hearted smile on his face. "Let's hold off on war till after we're not on a most wanted list."

Sam gave a half laugh before gesturing towards the food on the table. "I made breakfast. If you guys… _eat_ that sort of thing."

"I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, so gimme!" Darcy announced, snatching a piece of bacon off the plate. "I'm not sure about those two though: I think Nat lives off of macaroons, and Steve survives off of fresh, homegrown freedom."

Sam choked on his coffee, while Nat looked pleased with her joke, and Cap just sighed dramatically. Grabbing a plate and loading up on food, Steve commented, "Bacon and eggs will be just fine, Darcy."

She simply shrugged as she chewed on her bacon. "I guess defying a corrupt government agency in the name of justice is enough freedom for the next week."

Not able to hold back, Sam's snickers grew into full grown laughter. Pointing a finger at her, he quipped, "I like you. You're normal and give them hell."

Natasha picked up a mug of coffee and moved over next to the younger woman and hip bumped her on her perch on the counter. "Well, you've got him fooled if he thinks you're normal."

Sam suddenly looked upset. "Please don't tell me she's a spy or super soldier, too."

"Nah," Darcy drawled, snatching more bacon before Steve could eat the rest. "Though I'm pretty good at hacking."

"…something tells me you are more than good."

"She works for Stark as his head computer programmer," Natasha explained. "She designs hacking programs for him off the records." Turning to stare at the girl in question who was nibbling on bacon. "She also used to be a big enough hacker that she apparently had an assassin sent after her." Darcy looked away and shoved more bacon in her mouth as Nat narrowed her eyes. "_Twice_."

"What the hell?" Sam asked Darcy, crossing his arms and looking at her like a disappointed older brother.

She held up her hands in surrender. "It's not like I _wanted_ to nearly get stabbed! I was young and stupid, so sue me…" Pouting, she griped, "I gave up my user handle and everything to get him to back off…"

Looking confused, Steve asked, "What's this 'user handle' you keep talking about?"

"It's her online name," Natasha remarked. "Names are highly important amongst hackers, like a signature on their work." Looking back to Darcy, she remarked, "You never mentioned what your name was: Maybe we have heard of it."

Biting her lip, Darcy weakly said, "I have a feeling that you are subtly interrogating me right now…"

The older woman shrugged. "Just curious."

She sighed. "Honestly… I'd rather not say. That part of my past is dead. I intend to keep it that way."

Natasha stared at her for a moment longer, then an understanding smile flitted across her face. "If you are sure." Turning her attention back to the two men, she declares, "We need to get a supply list together. I'm assuming you won't mind grabbing stuff for us, Sam?"

Darcy perked up. "I will give you Tony's entire stack of emergency cash if you get me pants, dude."

Snorting, Sam smirked at her. "And here I was thinking you wanted to head out in just my sweatshirt."

* * *

Jolting up, Darcy clutched at the sheets, breathing heavily as her heart hammered in her chest. Her stomach rolled, and she scrambled from the bed, nearly tripping over herself as she stumbled into the bathroom. Throwing herself down on the floor in front of the toilet, her shoulders shuddered as she wretched into the bowl, her throat burning from the bile as she emptied her stomach.

It had been years since she had that dream… that _nightmare_. The shadows closing in, the figures striking out at her. The dark swallowing her, suffocating her, holding her down until the pain took hold…

She is barely aware of how long she spent like that, her mind still hazy from sleep, but by the time the heaving subsided, she became acutely aware of the person behind her. A large hand rested on her back, the other holding back her hair from her face. Groaning in embarrassment, she hoarsely said, "Well, that's a hell of a way to wake up…"

Soft chuckling as the hand on her back rubbed smooth circles, she heard Steve reply, "I've had worse."

Slowly shifting back, she leaned against his kneeling frame and vaguely gestured toward a towel. "I can believe it." As he handed her the towel, she wiped off around her mouth, grimacing. "Leave it to me to hurl in front of a hot guy."

He had let go of her hair and began to stroke her head. "Given the past twenty-four hours, I say you've impressed me enough to get away with it."

Eyeing him disbelievingly, she realized his smile was genuine, as was his words. "Are you flirting with me, Steve?"

"Maybe," he replied smoothly, though a hint of blush dusted his cheeks. "I still owe you a drink."

"I'm looking forward to it."

Rising to stand, he held out a hand for the smaller woman. "Come on. Sam got back a little bit ago with the supplies."

Her eyes lit up. "Did he get my pants?"

Chuckling quietly as he pulled her up to his side, he replied, "He got you _several_ pairs of pants."

"Oh thank _god_." Leaning on the blond while she steadied herself, she said, "I hope you know this puts him in the running for taking me out for drinks."

His eyes shining and grin growing, he simply answered, "Well then, I've got my work cut out for me to impress you." Scooping her up as she yelped in surprise, he asked, "How's this?"

"Forget what I said. The date is still yours."

* * *

Hearing the falling scream of Agent Evil-Hydra-Dude, Darcy finally gave into temptation and poked her head out of her hiding place a few dozen feet back.

With careful steps, she wandered closer to Nat and Steve, both of whom were completely unfazed about having just kicked a man off the building. "So, where are you going to take Darcy out for drinks?" Natasha asked calmly.

Steve shrugged. "Not sure," he began, before glancing towards her. "Unless the lady has a preference?"

"You know, I should be more disturbed about this situation than I actually am," she commented, peering over the edge as a blur suddenly shot up into her frame of vision before dropping the Agent Evil Face just a few feet away from her. Brows furrowed as she stared at the terrified little man, she vaguely asked, "Do I know you?"

Nat and Steve began to move forward, and the guy completely caved. "Zola's algorithm is a program for choosing targets for Project Insight!"

Blinking, she muttered, "Woooooow, I thought the bad guys would have more of a spine than this." He looked over at her, terror still in his eyes. "Please, keep going, though. I wouldn't want to be on Nat's bad side either."

He stuttered over his words. "You… You're supposed to be _dead_."

She froze, eyes going wide. "How do you know me?"

"They sent him after you! He said you were dead!"

Grabbing the guy by his shirt collar, Steve hauled him up off the ground, letting him dangle a few inches in the air. "Answer the lady's questions."

Gasping and clearly close to hyperventilating, he managed to shout, "_Project Aria_! A Red Room off shoot."

Nat shoved Steve back and let the guy fall to the ground. Pulling out a knife from out of nowhere, she spoke in an icy cold voice. "What were they doing with a Red Room program?"

"She was supposed to be for _him, _to be his partner_,_ but they cancelled the project." Turning terrified eyes to her, he asked, "How did you survive the Winter Soldier?!"

She didn't reply, her hands shaking as she stared at him with wide eyes. Memories of shadows and pain crept in, her mind closing in on itself. Reaching blindly, she latched onto Sam's arm and whispered, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Shit." Looking towards Steve and Nat, he barked out, "Finish up the interrogation. We will be waiting with Jarvis."

She barely heard what Sam said, the white noise induced from her panic slowly creeping in, drowning out Steve's reply completely as she felt herself being steered towards the roof access door.

* * *

"Are you okay, Darcy?"

Giving a weak, half hearted smile from the passenger seat as Steve slid into the driver's seat, she quipped, "Just… _peachy_. Mild panic attacks about past, mentally suppressed trauma aren't that bad." At his frown, she laughed. "Chill, Cap. My generation copes with trauma through dark humor. Just ignore me." Glancing in the backseat as Sam and Nat slid in with Agent Evil, she remarked, "We've got more important issues to focus on."

As they drove, Darcy couldn't help but keep glancing at the man in the backseat as he shifted nervously. He knew about her. About her past. And after staring for a while, it finally clicked on how she knew him.

"You were there when I woke up."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when she broke the silence of the car. Twisting in her seat to stare at him, he tried to look everywhere but her eyes. But being faced with the expectant gaze of the Black Widow, he caved and nervously declared, "I had orders to watch over you. You were a valuable and irreplaceable asset."

Anger built up inside of her, and she snapped, "I was a fucking _child_!"

"You were brilliant!" he countered. "You understood coding and system analysis beyond any of your teachers, let alone the others in the program! And he was…_receptive_ to working with you…"

"Receptive?" Sam interjected incredulously.

"His handlers were concerned that he would not mesh with a partner that required protection," he explained. "While basic combat was taught in the program, none of the girls were on par with a Widow: they focused on technology, on hacking and code breaking as well as… information gathering processes."

"You mean torture techniques," Natasha remarked blandly.

"Jarvis, I'm sorry but I might hurl on your floorboards."

"Would you like me to roll down a window, Miss Lewis?"

Steve gave Darcy a concerned look as he spoke. "What made you think he would mesh with her?"

"Because he _requested_ her." Everyone tensed as he continued to elaborate. "He was introduced to them, shown what they were being taught. She had always been a bit… unruly compared to the others, and were it not for her skill, she would have long ago been decommissioned."

He did not have to elaborate for everyone to understand what decommissioning entailed.

"She acted out once in front of him, and it was as if he just… claimed her from then on," the Agent declared almost pridefully. "Every time he saw her or asked about her, he always referred to her as Aria, as if she were already the final chosen candidate. He would not acknowledge any of the others. And as far as protectiveness goes…"

A flash of a memory passed through her brain. "He killed that man for touching me."

Silence reigned in the car. Then, quietly the Agent commented, "You… you aren't supposed to remember that."

She frowned. "I… I don't…" Her fingers began to tap rapidly on her leg as she tried to think. "I… I…"

Frowning, Steve glanced at her. "Darce…" His hand reached out and carefully rested on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes clenched shut. "I don't know." Taking a deep breath, she muttered, "I don't know where I remembered that from…"

Quietly, the agent in the back asked, "She's… stable, right?"

Darcy didn't see it, but she heard a grunt of pain from the back and tglanced just in time to see him hunched over in his seat. "You are not in any position to ask questions," Natasha bluntly remarked.

"It's a valid concern," he coughed out. "Her conditioning was never finalized-"

Anything else he might have said was cut short as a loud thud sounded on the top of the car. Screeching in surprise, Darcy heard breaking glass behind her. She spun in her seat just in time to see the agent what's-his-face yanked out the window and tossed into oncoming traffic.

"Oh _shit_."


	6. Chapter 6

Darcy's life had always been far from normal.

She knew that 'normal' lives did not include eccentric scientists, superhero mentors, personable AIs, and Gods falling from the sky. Normal lives certainly do not entail assassins who have not only attempted to kill you multiple times, but also apparently were supposed to be your partner?

She nearly forgot to mention the amnesia part.

Honestly, she shouldn't be worrying about any of this right now, considering what a stupid move she just made. In the moment, it felt heroic or something. Natasha was down, and Mr. Stabby was going in for the killing blow. It was almost instinctual to scoop up the pipe, dash out of her perfectly good hiding spot, and whack him across the back of the skull.

Unfortunately, he was sturdier than he looked.

With her arms aching from the vibration of the blow, she nearly did not notice his slow glance over his shoulder. The familiar, steel blue eyes stared down at her, a tightness in his brow that let her know that he was _far_ from pleased with her little attempt at heroism.

She felt a cold dread wash over her.

* * *

Were it not for the seriousness of the situation, the scene might have been funny.

Cap and Wilson had their hands tied engaging the squad that had accompanied the Soldier, unable to react to what they saw. Instead, they could only watch in confusion as Darcy ran past them in their peripherals, screaming at the top of her lungs. It's only when her pursuer quickly began to catch up, running at an almost comically faster speed, that they process exactly what was happening.

"Darcy!" Steve shouts, trying to break away from his fight to get to her.

Striking his opponent across the face, Wilson gripes, "Did no one explain to her to _not piss off the god damn assassin?!_"

* * *

She would like to say that she put up a decent chase for him. That she dodged out of the way of debris, put some distance from him, or just avoided till the others could swoop in to rescue her. In all honesty though?

She tripped and fell on her face.

Rolling to a stop, her whole arm burned painfully, and she angrily questioned what in the hell she thought she was doing. She's a hacker, not a secret agent. She's nothing like these heroes: she would never be able to keep pace with any of them. And now here she was, sprawled on the ground in the middle of a fight scene, bleeding from self inflicted scrapes…

And as she heard the crunch of gravel behind her, she knew she was about to receive a lot worse.

Rolling over slowly, she propped herself up carefully, eyes focusing on his shoes. Laughing bitterly, she let her eyes wander up his body, noticing each knife, each gun, the familiar glint of his arm until her eyes settled on his face. He stared down at her, his gaze ice cold, causing her to physically shiver.

Wiping the side of her mouth on her shoulder, she weakly quipped, "Whelp, third times a charm, right?"

His eyes clouded with confusion at her words, and she sighed. "You don't remember again, do you?" He shook his head. "Can't say I'm surprised at this point."

Pushing herself up onto her knees, she looked for the others, trying to see if any were nearby. Natasha was still down, barely moving, and both Cap and Wilson were still powering through the foot soldiers, trying to break off to her. She caught Steve's eyes for a moment, and her heart clenched at the utter panic in his gaze as he realized she had been caught.

Taking a breath, she leaned on her hand, the other clutching her side as if she were in pain. His eyes narrowed at her, and he moved forward to grab her. As he reached towards her, however, her entire body tensed.

And then she struck.

She didn't expect to land a hit on him: she was no where near his caliber. However, she had played her part as the defenseless girl well enough to catch him off guard. He barely managed to dodge the swipe of her knife, and she soon found herself pinned back, his knife clashing with hers.

He only pressed forward enough to keep her held back, and she saw as he eyed her blade with a curious expression. "Its yours," she remarked cooly, drawing his eyes back to her own. "From our last encounter. You embedded it into the brick next to my head."

A flash of something, maybe recognition, perhaps surprise, crossed his face at her words. "You kept it."

Blinking, she found herself caught off guard by his words. "Yes, I kept it," she answered slowly. "As a reminder of our promise."

His gaze grew clouded and unfocused. "Our…our promise…"

Taking advantage of his distracted thoughts, she dropped her press against him, causing him to stumble forward as she spun away. But, just like before, she could not move faster than him. Finding herself pinned to his chest, his breath in her ear and the blade from all those years before pinned against her neck, she could not help the snarl that curled up her throat. "_Делай свое худшее, солдат_!"

She braced herself, eyes closed, waiting for him to slit her throat and be done with it. The moment dragged on, the sounds around her fading out as she held her breath…

Only for her to hear him quietly, almost reverently speak.

"_Aria…_"

* * *

_She was younger. Yet older, if not in body then in mind._

_For as long as she could remember, she had been a number. Just a number. Nothing more in their eyes. They thought her to be a tool at their disposal. She was useful. More than useful, out of all the girls in the group, it was an unspoken knowledge that she was the best. And that knowledge came with certain benefits._

_She had long ago decided that if they thought her not worth a name, she would do everything in her power to make herself memorable. And what better way to instill remembrance to those who sought to control her than by proving that they were not always in control?_

_Her defiance had earned her a reputation. Were it not for her extraordinary skill, she would have been decommissioned long ago. That did not mean that her disobedience did not come with a price._

_As a fist struck the side of her face once again, she could not help the feral grin stretching across her face as she laughed. This only made her handler angrier. He drew his leg bag and kicked her hard in the gut, sending her rolling back towards the other girls. They all watched, their faces schooled to be emotionless but some of their eyes betrayed their fear._

_They did not fear for her safety._

_Spitting blood from her mouth onto the ground, she lazily glanced over her shoulder. "У тебя все еще нет чувства юмора." He strode forward, hauling her up by the front of her shirt, moving to strike her again, when the door to the room slammed open._

_It was not the first time she had seen him. She knew that it would be far from the last. Unless she finally hit the wrong button and they were done with her shit._

_The handler dropped her, backing away quickly as the Soldier strode towards her. She held her chin up defiantly, though she allowed herself to sit casually on the floor, leaning heavily on one hand while the other absently rubbed the blood from her mouth._

_When he stopped, he practically towered above her. She was young, much smaller than him, but she was smaller than most of the other girls as well. He dwarfed her, and she knew she should be more afraid than she was._

_But she was tired. Tired of being treated like a tool. They trained her, needed her, yet treated her like shit beneath their boot. She didn't care about the ghost stories following this man. He was just that: a man. One with a hell of a reputation, but a man nonetheless. _

_And she had stopped fearing men long ago._

_With a carefree expression, but challenging eyes, she stared him down as she spoke. "Делай свое худшее, солдат."_

_The air grew heavy, and she could vaguely hear the small intakes of breath of theaters in the room. She could practically here their thoughts. They all thought her mad, that this was her _final_ rebellion, her final mistake. And perhaps it was. But she was known for her dramatics, and if challenging the Winter Soldier was the way her life ended, then at least she was going out with a bang._

_Despite this, he did not grow angry with her words. He did not lash out like her handlers. He watched her with detached eyes, the icy blue a stark contrast to the dull grayness of her life thus far. And when she was beginning to wonder what he was waiting for, she watched in fascination as he held out his hand for her._

_She stared at it in bewildered silence, rendered speechless for the first time. No quips, no insults waiting to roll off her tongue. The hand just hovered there, waiting for her to take, while the icy blue eyes watched her patiently._

_Carefully, as if expecting a trap, she took the hand, half expecting him to throw her or something. But he just pulled her gently to her feet before absently grabbing her chin with his metal hand. The metal was cool against her skin, but not uncomfortably so._

_Turning her head this way and that, inspecting her injuries, she did not protest the movements. Seeming satisfied with whatever he saw, he released her chin and carefully sat his hand on top of her head. "Вы должны больше заботиться о себе, Aria."_

_The gasps behind her were clearly audible now, and she could barely suppress the tremble in her hand. He had _named_ her. He had given her a name. And not just any name, as the implications sunk in. _

_And in that moment, she knew that she would follow him, wherever he might lead._

* * *

Translations:

Делай свое худшее, солдат : Do your worst, soldier

У тебя все еще нет чувства юмора : You still don't have a sense of humor.

Вы должны больше заботиться о себе : You should be more careful with yourself


	7. Chapter 7

_"__You dare to disobey orders, Asset?"_

_Russian words flowed as easily as English through her brain, translating back and forth till she heard both at once. Was Russian her native tongue? Was English? She couldn't tell. But the memory continued to move despite her inner curiosity. _

_Blue eyes as cold as ice did not waver, staring down the smaller man with anger and disdain. "Mission Objective: train Project Aria subjects. Those orders came from above your station."_

_Bristling at the subtle insubordination, the small man barked out, "That does not justify what you did to the handler. You dare to attack superiors unprovoked-"_

_"__It was provoked."_

_"__How?!" the man spat._

_"__Higher Mission Objective: Protect my Aria."_

_"__You have not been assigned a partner yet, Asset."_

_His arm tightened around her shoulders as she watched on quietly. "_She_ is my partner, my Aria. No other will do. He stepped out of line by attempting to touch her as he did." Something in his gaze must have surprised the small man, because his eyes widened as he stepped back away. "And that will _not _be tolerated."_

* * *

She remembered.

Not everything. The pieces were broken and mismatched, but she knew enough. Her vision swayed as she tried to process it all, and were it not for the arm wrapped firmly around her waist, she might have fallen to the ground from the shock of the memories flooding back to her.

Yet he held firm, and she felt her heart race as she was brought back to the reality of the situation. She needed to reason with him. And thanks to certain memories, she had a vague idea of how to do it… even though she was not fond of her options. Still, deciding her best bet was to cling to the old memories, she firmly asked in English, "What is your mission, Asset?"

"Mission Objective: eliminate Captain America and his allies," he replied evenly, his voice muffled behind his mask and tone betraying nothing. She drew in a breath, panic gripping her throat as he continued. "Secondary Mission Objective: obey and protect my Aria."

That floored her. The old memories floated up, just below the surface of her mind: he had always protected her, just as ordered. But the fact that they had not rescinded those orders all these years later sounded too good to be true…

And part of her tried to suppress any thoughts about him claiming her as his.

Quietly, she asked, "Which mission takes precedence?"

He remained silent for a beat, then he said, "Both were given high priority. Neither were stated to be higher over the other." Turning her around in his arms, she noted that he had put away the knife he had taken and used against her. She distantly wondered if he would give it back or if she would be pushing her luck to ask. "Presumably the older orders takes precedence."

"_Oh thank god._" He blinked in confusion at her response, but she did not take the time to explain. "Okay… Okay, so, orders? I can give you orders?" He nodded. "Alright… um… don't kill Captain America."

His brows furrowed, and though she could not see his mouth behind the mask, she assumed he was frowning. "But the mission-"

"Our superiors are compromised." Aria may have been a kickass spy, but Darcy Lewis was definitely superior in one area: making up utter bullshit that sounds semi-believable. "We can no longer follow their orders. Hydra is dead to us. We are on our own now, and we have to stick together."

He looked ready to protest her words, but she reacted by instinct and grabbed his hands in her own. "You said you wanted to protect me?" He hesitantly nodded. "Then trust me. Hydra is a threat to my safety, to _both_ our safety. They would kill me without a care."

"I won't let them."

The use of first person was not lost on her, and briefly, she remembered similar conversations with him, away from the prying eyes of handlers. "The only way to ensure that is to cut ties with them. Captain America and his friends are on our side. They will help you protect me-"

Anything else she might have said was cut off by the Soldier shoving her behind him. She heard a loud clang and looked up just in time to see him fling Cap's shield with his metal arm. "Fuck!" Shoving around the Soldier before he could set off to fight the others, Darcy shouted, "Steve, stand down! He's on our side!"

"Steve?" The voice whispered behind her, his tone tinged with… _something_.

"Yeah, Steve," she replied over her shoulder. She could see the confusion in his eyes, almost as if he were in pain. "He won't hurt me. He just thought you were still attacking me."

The Soldier's eyes hardened. "Never."

She squeezed the hand she still had a hold of. "I know." Turning back to Cap as he reached them, she remarked, "I don't have time to explain, but we need to get out of here."

Eyeing the man behind her, Steve asked, "Is he coming with us?"

She felt him press closer behind her, his hand releasing hers and resting on her shoulder. He did not speak, however, and judging by how Cap straightened and tensed up, she could assume the Soldier was glaring at him. "Uh… I kind of think wherever I go, he goes."

Steve sent her a questioning glance, but Natasha and Sam chose that moment to come jogging up. Turning to them, he ordered, "Let's find a ride and move out."

Natasha simply nodded while eyeing the Soldier. Sam, however, kept glancing back and forth between Darcy and Cap, and just announced, "Did I miss a meeting or something, or is it common for you guys to befriend people who shoot at you?"

Not missing a beat, Natasha replied smoothly, "I tried to assassinate a man once and ended up being recruited to SHIELD." Turning to head off towards some undamaged parked cars, she added, "Clint still invites me over for family dinners."

"…you guys really need therapy."

"You volunteering?"

"_Hell no_."

* * *

"I believe we need an explanation."

Steve sat directly in front of her in the van, while Nat and Sam sat in the front with Sam driving. She had shoved herself and the Soldier into the back row of the van, figuring he would feel more comfortable without anyone unfamiliar behind him or next to him… though eyeing the way his legs were practically scrunched up to his chest, she felt bad for the decision.

He didn't complain.

He never complained when others were around.

Shifting nervously in her seat, she dropped her eyes to her lap. "I honestly barely understand this all myself." Glancing to her right, she saw the Soldier staring straight ahead at Steve. His mask still covered the lower half of his face, but she could clearly see the assessing nature in his eyes, as if Steve were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Steve, to his credit, was keeping his composure rather well as he glanced between her and the Soldier. "How about you start by telling me why he is no longer trying to kill us?"

She shrugged. "He's following orders."

"I'm pretty sure his orders were to turn us all into roadkill," Sam chimed in from the front seat. "Or did you forget about the part where he ripped the damn steering wheel through the roof of the car and tried to beat us all with it?"

"I remember you screaming like a banshee."

"Woman, as the normal one of the group that's _not_ used to this bullshit, that screaming was justified."

"Разрешение говорить?"

His voice caught her off guard, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She had expected him to refuse to speak in their presence based on his behavior thus far: but when he asked to speak she realized that it had never occurred to her that he would think that he wasn't _allowed_ to speak. "Of course," she replied after a beat. "You can speak about whatever you want, whenever you want. But just, Nat's the only other one who understands Russian, so English would be better."

He nodded to her, but she could see a hint of relief in his eyes. This was likely a kindness that his previous handlers had never allowed…

Briefly, she wondered if this made her his new handler. The thought made her ill.

He directed his attention to the others in the car. Steve and Natasha watched him warily, while Sam stole glances from the mirror of the van. "Rejected Mission Objective: eliminate Captain America and his allies." The small intake of air was the only sound the others made, all having known what his mission was, but still reacting to hearing it out loud. "Primary Mission Objective: obey and protect my Aria."

"My?" Steve's tone was slightly confrontational, in a way that made her little feminist 'no-one-owns-me' heart sing. But, she knew what the Soldier meant by the possessive tone.

And she also knew he likely would not approve of being challenged.

Her hand quickly darted out to grab the Soldier's, squeezing tightly to reassure him, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Cap and possibly Nat who was doing her whole 'I look like I'm not paying attention but I'm currently psychoanalyzing the shit out of you' spy thing. "It's okay, Steve. He didn't mean it in the way you're thinking."

"I don't know what to think, Darce," he replied in an exasperated tone. "Just this morning you were terrified of the man, and now you insist he is on our side."

"Terrified?" The voice had been quiet, but she could hear the hurt. Looking up at the man beside her, she could see the concern in his eyes. "What did I do?"

"Soldier…" she whispered quietly. "It's not your fault. Hydra gave you orders… but I wasn't hurt."

He shook his head, as if trying to will away the thought of hurting her. "Why?"

"Why did they give you orders? Or why was I afraid?"

"Both."

"My existence was a threat." The words rolled off her tongue with a shrug. "They feared I remembered and that I was defying them. And as for why I was afraid…"

"You didn't remember."

She smiled sadly. "I didn't remember." Her hand squeezed his. "Not until today."

His eyes dropped down to her hands. "They wiped you."

"Yes."

"Just like they wiped me."

"…yes." She hesitated before speaking. "But you remember me?…"

"I remember you."

"And I remember the fact that Hydra wants to kill us all," Sam chimed in from the driver's seat. "Not to ruin y'all's little moment, but we really need to figure out what to do next."

"Sam is right," Natasha added smoothly. "I know you both are likely dealing with a lot, but we need to figure out how to stop HYDRA before they proceed with Project Insight."

With a huff of a laugh, Darcy quips, "No problem, we can compartmentalize." Linking her fingers as she stretched her arms above her head, she added, "Focusing on the mission is one thing we were taught how to do _very_ well."

* * *

"Its still you… right?"

Startled out of her zone, Darcy's head popped up from her laptop that had survived the fight in her bag. "What do you mean, Cap?"

Absently scratching the back of his head, he moved to sit next to her on the dingy bed. "Are you still Darcy?… or are you Aria?"

They had managed to drive towards the outskirts of the city, ensuring that they had no tails as they checked into a seedy little motel. Both Natasha and the Soldier were securing the perimeter as well as keeping watch, while Sam had opted for a shower. Which left Steve and Darcy to the room by themselves.

"Yeah, I think so…" At his confused look, she sighed. "It's not like I have much to compare it too. Like…" Running her hands through her hair, she tried her best to explain. "I still remember everything since I woke up. I remember my life as Beatrice, as Jane, and of course as Darcy. I _want_ to still be Darcy…"

"But now you have these memories," he offered quietly.

Her eyes dropped to stare at her hands. "I remember things. I remember the Red Room. I remember the handlers. I remember meeting the Soldier, being trained by the Soldier, being _protected_ by the Soldier… I remember being Aria. But its like watching an old movie that's seared into my brain. I remember, but at the same time…"

"It feels like another lifetime."

She slowly meets his eyes, quietly assessing him. "You understand."

"Maybe not fully," he began, his voice low. "The Soldier probably understands what you are going through better than anyone. But after the serum, after the ice… life changed so much that I couldn't recognize it. Nothing was ever the same again."

"What did you do?"

He shrugged. "The only thing I could do. Adapted. Put one foot in front of the other. You can't change your past, but you can decide your future."

Nodding slowly, she spoke quietly but determinedly. "I want to be Darcy."

Grinning brightly, Steve replied, "Well that's good, cause I still owe her a drink. Would hate to have her bail out on me."

Laughing, she cooed, "Oh, Cap, I would _never_ wish to disappoint you."

He shook his head, his shoulders still rumbling with laughter. "I don't think you could." As the laughter died off, he found himself staring off at the wall, lost in thought.

Tilting her head curiously, she chirped, "Penny for your thoughts?"

Eyeing her, he slowly drawled, "Its just… the Soldier."

"You're still wary about him?"

"No… well yes, but thats not what I'm thinking about." His voice dropped low, and she had to lean forward to hear him. "He… he reminds me of someone I knew."

Brows scrunched together, she asked, "Wait really? Who?"

"It's the eyes," he explained. His eyes grew haunted, his shoulders tensing. "I must be going crazy, seeing a dead man in his eyes. I just… they look a lot like my friend's eyes."

"Steve…" Resting a hand on his arm, she softly asked, "Who is it?"

"Bucky." Dropping his face to his hands, he groaned as if in pain. "I can't stop seeing Bucky."

Darcy felt herself stiffen in shock, her brain spinning. She remembered seeing a book about Captain America, the pictures of him and the Howlies, and the pictures of his old, close friend, James Buchanan Barnes…

And as other old, buried memories came flooding back, she could not help the little gasp of shock.

Shoving up off the bed, she ignored his shout of surprise as she launched herself up towards the door. Yanking it open, she shouted out, "_Soldier_! I need to talk to you now- _Fucking hell!_"

She would have fallen on her ass in surprise had it not been for the familiar metal arm wrapping tightly around her waist. Concerned blue eyes assessed her for injuries and their surroundings for threats as she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. Finally catching her breath, she laid a hand on his chest. "I'm fine… God, you got here fast."

He huffed softly. "Ваше пространственное осознание ухудшилось, мало Aria…"

Practically growling, she smacked him on the shoulder. "I am not little!" she snapped in English, ignoring his choice of Russian. His eyes crinkled in the corners and sparked in amusement at her defiance, causing her to scowl. "Don't laugh at me, jerk…"

He didn't reply, glancing warily towards Steve who hovered in the background. She could read that look well enough, his wondering if Steve had done something wrong to elicit her calling for him.

Needing to nip that thought in the butt before anything happened, she grabbed the sides of his face and turned him to look at her. "Soldier… can you remove your mask?" He seemed caught off guard, slightly curious to her request. "It's… it's a theory. And it's important." Still, hesitation and wariness. "_Please_."

She had been very careful since their reunion to keep the orders to a very minimum. Though he likely would not feel any ill will towards _her_ for orders, the idea of forcing him to do anything did not sit well with her. Yet, even with her requests, giving him the option, he had yet to not cave to whatever she wished.

So it did not shock her as he reached up to undo the clasps on the mask, his eyes not leaving hers as he pulled off the mask and tossed it carelessly to the side. She felt no surprise over his face, being just the same as all those years ago when she was just a child and he the teacher, but now with her being a woman and him being… very distinctly _male_.

_Stop that_, she ordered herself. He was her first friend, her dear Soldier. She could never think of him as anything else. Could never suggest that dynamic to him. Whether it was out of fear of him complying out of duty or fear of something _real_ coming about, she couldn't decide. All she knew was how attractive those lips were, and how unfair it was to pair them with those icy blues…

Shaking herself free of that train of thought, she turned back to the issue at hand. She had remembered his face well enough. And that building dread at the implications just made the situation all the worse.

"Darcy…" Steve's voice floated from within the room, not having a clear view of her Soldier's face. "What's going on…"

His voice trailed off as she stepped back, giving him a good view of her mask-less Soldier. The look of utter shock and disbelief was enough to make her heart break. Quietly, he whispered, "Bucky?…"

And her heart sank further as her Soldier replied, "Who the hell is Bucky?"

Steve never got a chance to answer, because Sam chose that moment to come striding out of the bathroom in just a towel, shouting, "Okay, where in the hell are my pants?!" while Natasha sprinted into view outside of the door, gun drawn, declaring, "We've got company!"

* * *

Translation: (this is from google translate so it probably a little inaccurate IM SORRY)

Разрешение говорить - Permission to speak

Ваше пространственное осознание ухудшилось, мало - Your spatial awareness has worsened, little


End file.
